Matter at Hand
by Asa Turney
Summary: You can take the lawyers out of the courtroom, but you can't take the courtroom out of the lawyers. Set between 1-4 and 1-5: Nick & Miles meet outside of court and share a conversation in the only way they seem to know how. Nonromantic P/E friendship fluff.


Hands stuffed into his suit pockets, Phoenix Wright ambled down the sidewalk.

_"You can't run the office by yourself, Nick!"_ he recalled Maya's teasing words back at the train station as she prepared to leave for training in Kurain. _"You're hopeless!"_

Phoenix, in need of a brief rest, took a seat on a short bench in front of a grocery store. The atmosphere there was pleasantly animated in comparison with the current state of the Wright & Co. Law Offices.

His office was remarkably quiet without his assistant's cheerful laughter chiming through the room, or her insatiable stomach grumbling in want of a burger, or her excitable voice singing along to the Steel Samurai theme whenever her favorite reruns were on. Charley the plant simply wasn't as interesting of a roommate, and not even the office phone seemed disposed to keep Phoenix company, as not a single call from a prospective client had come in during the weeks that had passed since Maya's departure.

As a result, the lawyer found himself with a great deal of free time on his hands. The cold January weather wasn't particularly favorable for strolling around the city, but it was preferable to being cooped up in the office all day longing for the phone to ring.

Even so, he decided that he'd wasted enough time for the day and ought to get back to work. Maybe the message light on that phone would finally be alerting him that there was someone who needed his help.

Phoenix rose from the bench... just in time for a familiar shade of pink _– or 'red,' whichever would please the man –_ to catch the corner of his eye.

"Edgeworth?"

Miles Edgeworth, clutching the handle of a cloth shopping bag in his right hand, stepped out from between the automatic doors of the grocery store, and, responding to the sound of his name, his eyes traveled to the royal blue-clad figure across the way.

"What a surprise to run into you at a place like this," Phoenix said with a grin, approaching the man in p... _red_.

"Even prosecutors are people, Wright," Miles retorted with a straight face. "They need food and supplies to survive."

Phoenix winced at Miles's stern seriousness, and then peered into the bag he was holding to catch a glimpse of some of his "supplies." He spotted first a few boxes of assorted teas; that was predictable enough. But what was that other item? A can of...gourmet dog food? One learns new things about people every day.

Even as Miles drummed a finger impatiently against his side, appearing ready to walk away if the other man had nothing else of importance to say to him, Phoenix couldn't let the encounter end just like that. "So, which way are you headed?" he asked.

Miles extended a magenta-sleeved arm and sharply thrust an index finger in the direction of his destination.

Phoenix couldn't help but chuckle at the familiarity of the pose.

"Me, too," he replied, amusedly copying the pose and gesturing in the same direction.

It was nice, he thought, to be pointing the same way for once, rather than at each other.

The subtle humor that Phoenix derived from the moment apparently went over Miles's head, so Phoenix let it go and suggested, "We might as well walk together, then, right?"

Miles cocked an eyebrow in uncertainty, but ultimately gave a curt nod of consent. "All right."

**. . . . . . . . . .**

They walked in silence for some time. Miles didn't seem to mind the quiet. Phoenix, on the other hand, not yet accustomed to the lack of constant chatter in the absence of his usual female companion, was growing more uncomfortable by the minute, and so decided to break the silence.

"Edgeworth, don't you have a car?" If Phoenix had his own fancy sports car (and a driver's license to go with it, of course), he knew he wouldn't bother traveling anywhere on foot. "What brings you out walking?"

"The car is currently in for repair." A trace of annoyance flickered across Miles's calm face. "I had it parked at a crime scene I was helping to investigate, and a certain detective began swinging his metal detector around with a bit too much enthusiasm."

Phoenix wordlessly cringed for the sake of that certain detective's next salary review.

Miles sighed. "In any case, I tend to spend a great deal of time locked up in my office... so I enjoy the exercise."

"Oh." Phoenix nodded in understanding. "I see..."

They reached an intersection. Miles, without hesitation, continued straight through the crosswalk.

To get back to his law office, where he had supposedly been headed, Phoenix should have taken the turn at the corner.

But, for some reason, he suddenly didn't feel like returning quite yet.

_Why was that?_ he wondered as he quickened his pace to match the other man's, glancing in either direction to check for cars in the road.

Was it the lonely thought of the empty office that awaited him?

Was it the unwelcome prospect of that hypothetical message on the office phone being from some particularly eccentric client?

No – he decided – it was simply the realization that such an opportunity to spend some casual time with his old friend was a rarity. As he and Miles reached the other side of the street, he felt inspired to make more of an effort to create conversation, although he still didn't know quite where to begin.

"This is a little weird, isn't it, Edgeworth?" said Phoenix with an awkward laugh, raising an arm to scratch the back of his head. "The two of us together, outside of court."

"Yes," Miles agreed. "Frankly, it's a bit unnerving."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"The good detective tells me that he's bumped into you at a crime scene on more than one occasion. I'd like to believe that you don't go out wandering in hopes of stumbling upon a murder, but, if so, I would appreciate it if you could forgo that tradition for at least as long as we're walking together." Miles threw a cool sideways glance to the attorney. "I have enough cases on my hands."

"Ha ha... Th-that's not what I meant," Phoenix asserted anxiously, unwilling to indulge such a jinxing statement with a potentially more jinxing response. "It just must look strange for us to be hanging out like friends. You know, because of our rivalry and all."

"...Well," said Miles slowly, "we're not a typical pair of rivals, I suppose."

At the cue of that obvious understatement, common memories and unspoken feelings filled the air around them.

**. . . . . . . . . .**

This time, the silence wasn't as uncomfortable. It was simply reflective.

Phoenix's eyes were turned downward in thought, so that he could see the golden badge on his lapel gleaming faintly in the scarce sunlight. After staring at it quietly for some time, Phoenix could no longer suppress a wide smile from spreading across his lips as one particular memory made its way to the forefront of his mind.

The prosecutor noticed the odd expression, and it made him a bit nervous. "Wh-what are you grinning about, Wright?"

"Say... Do you remember that time, back in fourth grade" – Phoenix's fingertips grazed the defense attorney's badge on his chest – "when you brought one of these to show-and-tell?"

Miles observed what the other man was referring to, and then quickly turned away. "...Vaguely..."

"There's no way you could've forgotten. You were so proud of it."

_It wasn't mine to be proud of,_ Miles wanted to counter, but felt disinclined to broach that subject at the moment.

"You pinned it right onto your vest so you wouldn't lose it."

"Yes... but _someone_, whose simple mind was drawn to its shine, kept prodding at it incessantly until it loosened."

"Oh, yeah," the attorney responded with a small laugh, reminded of the spot-on saying about that simple _someone_. "And it ended up falling off during recess."

Miles bowed his head slightly. "If I recall correctly," he continued with some hesitancy, "it was you, Wright, who ultimately located it."

"Y-yeah," Phoenix said with hint of modesty. He could still remember...

* * *

_...the look of anguish in nine-year-old Miles Edgeworth's eyes as the bell rang for class to reconvene. Watching the rest of the students run to form their lines on the blacktop, the boy couldn't bear the thought of leaving the precious lost item behind somewhere on the playground._

_It was young Phoenix Wright who pulled him aside, out of sight of the teachers, and promised to continue searching with him, no matter how long it would take or how much trouble they might get in._

_Miles investigated on top of the main play structure, while Phoenix scoured the woodchips below._

_After several minutes of hunting – which, to Miles, surely felt like several hours – a glimmer of gold caught Phoenix's eye._

_"A-ha!" he announced triumphantly. "Guess what I found?"_

_Miles whirled around, heart racing, and leaned over the playground platform to behold the welcome sight of his father's defense attorney badge resting in the palm of Phoenix's outstretched hand._

_"Here, take it!" Phoenix told him with a smile._

_Hardly able to move, Miles continued to simply stare down at his friend's hand. He had been trying his best not to cry, but finally let a few tears of relief slide down his cheek._

_"Go on," Phoenix insisted, raising his hand higher so that Miles could reach the treasure it held, "**...****take that**!" The young boy laughed. "What do you think? I'd make a pretty good lawyer, wouldn't I?" He nodded emphatically as if to affirm his own statement. "I'm the kind of guy you can trust!"_

* * *

"...We weren't anything like rivals back then," Phoenix mused. "I had actually been...looking forward to being your colleague."

Something subtle changed in Miles's expression, but he didn't answer aloud.

"You know, Edgeworth," Phoenix teased him, "when a friend tells you something like that, you're supposed to say something sentimental in return."

"Wright, please..." Miles's unease was evident in the furrow of his brow. "You know I'm not very good with words."

"...**Objection**!"

Miles's eyes widened in surprise, and, after darting quickly left and right to ensure that the out-of-place outburst hadn't attracted unnecessary attention from passersby, threw their questioning focus back on Phoenix.

"Excuse me?"

"That's not true at all." With a shrewd smile, Phoenix lifted a pointer finger playfully to the other man's face. "You're plenty good with words when you're standing at the prosecutor's bench."

"..." After but a brief pause to catch the man's drift, Miles replied, "Very well," with a knowing smirk of his own. "In that case, I am obliged to inform you that there was a _contradiction_ in your statement before, Wright."

"Oh?" Phoenix rejoined. "Care to present it?"

"You expressed a desire to be colleagues, for the sake of friendship."

"And?"

"Fellow defense attorneys – like fellow prosecutors – don't take cases together," Miles stated matter-of-factly, gripping the shopping bag tighter at his right and tapping one finger of his free hand against his temple. "They likely wouldn't even see each other as often as we do from our opposite ends of the courtroom."

Considering this rebuttal, Phoenix blinked a few times – and then beamed uncontrollably. "So what you're saying is...that you like it better being rivals, because we get to see each other more often?"

"Nngh...!" Miles gritted his teeth. "Th-that's... I didn't say that..."

"I think you did." Phoenix confidently poked around the air with his forefinger. "Don't lie on the witness stand."

"I'm not a witness, Wright."

"But I'm a pretty good lawyer. I was able to make you reveal the truth, just as planned."

"I call your bluff!" The prosecutor was visibly flustered. "You never planned to make me say that, Wright. You have nowhere near enough experience as a lawyer to trick me into saying something I didn't mean."

"Right. So you must have meant it."

"I never said it."

"Anyway, I guess I have to agree with you..."

"I didn't say it!" Miles futilely protested.

"...but sometimes I wonder how things would have panned out – for me, and for you, Edgeworth – if you had become a defense attorney after all."

Phoenix looked over at Miles to note his reaction.

Miles cleared his throat. "This..." he began cautiously, "...This is the path I've walked. No one can make me regret it."

Phoenix had no choice but to believe his sincerity on that point.

He had been taken by the hand once and led astray, but, now that the cruel figure who had shaped so much of his life was out of the picture, Miles Edgeworth was clearly his own man.

Of course, independence was admirable, but that wasn't the matter at hand. Independence and solitude were two different things entirely.

**. . . . . . . . . .**

As the two men continued to walk, there was a stretch of silence between them once again. Phoenix briefly glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the office he had left behind a long while ago, but he didn't have any regrets about continuing on by Miles's side. He shifted his gaze down toward his feet until he could remember the right words to express what he wanted to say next.

"...**Hold it**," came the words, stiffly, from under his breath.

They both stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, and Miles turned curiously to the man beside him.

"What?"

With no small effort, Phoenix uncurled the fingers of his left hand from their perpetual pointing position. "Hold it," he repeated with more volume but less force.

Miles, taken aback, dropped his shopping bag on the cement below with a sudden flinch, and felt his face flush as _red_ as his suit as he stared down at the proffered hand of his friend.

Phoenix's smile was warm and genuine. "I'm the kind of guy you can trust." ∎


End file.
